All the Memories
by itzalliballi
Summary: She called him with findings for the case, and it quickly turned personal. Booth had to face his memories, whether he wanted to or not.


Hi everyone. This idea kind of just hit me one day, and I wrote it in one sitting, so PLEASE let me know what you think. Any kind of suggestions would be appreciated as well. Thank you! I own nothing. Unfortunately.

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She'd sounded uncertain when she called you to meet her at the lab. Uncertain was never something used to describe Bones, so when she insisted it couldn't wait until tomorrow, even though you were technically already on your way home, you agreed. You knew she wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. She might not have any problem working straight through the night and all through the weekend, but she was pretty good with letting other people have time away from the constant face of death that you worked with every day. She understood that people needed to see life sometimes in order to understand death.

You cringed when Bones told you the name of the suspect you were supposed to visit next. It was your old man. You'd always thought about looking him up, but you never had. He only lived forty-five minutes away from you, and you realized you weren't sure you could handle seeing him again.

He wasn't a prime suspect, not yet, but you felt your chest tighten at the idea of arresting him. You knew you could do it. It probably wouldn't be any harder than arresting Bones's dad. Unlike Bones, you wanted him to rot away in jail. He deserved it. Any scumbag who lays a hand on a child deserves as much punishment as possible.

"Are you okay, Booth?" Bones's voice was raspy as she stared at you nervously across her desk. You'd stopped in for lunch. You hadn't expected her to have any details on the case. But she'd found his DNA on the body.

A body of 14-year-old little girl who'd been beaten to death.

Your stomach knotted as you forced yourself to nod. You could do it. It was your job. It wasn't like you were close to him. You hadn't seen the bastard since you were a little kid. A part of you wanted to run away from the fact that he was so near, and the rest of you wanted him to have to face you. You wanted his skin to whiten at the sight of you as you flashed him your badge, and maybe put him under arrest. He got away with beating you, but you swore if he did it again to a helpless little girl, he would pay.

You would make sure of it. You had power now.  
_  
The brakes squealed as his old station wagon came to a stop in your driveway. He was late. You'd had a baseball game at seven that he was supposed to take you to, and it was already after 9 PM. You were probably going to get kicked off the team for missing another game, but that wasn't your biggest concern as you heard the car door slam, followed by his drunken steps on the cemented walkway to the door._

_He was drunk again. You were quick to flip off the light to your bedroom and throw the covers over your head as the front door mimicked the sound of the car. You hoped if he thought you were asleep, he would leave you alone for the night. At least long enough for him to sober up. You knew that was false hope though. There were still dishes in the sink from your dinner you'd forgotten to rinse, which guaranteed that he was not going to let you sleep._

_You could only be thankful that Jared was at a friend's house for the night. He was better with his timing than you were. It was almost as if he knew. Maybe he did, or maybe he just always assumed that your dad was going to be drunk, and he knew that despite how much you tried, you couldn't always protect him from the painful blows that would follow. God knows you tried though. He was your little brother, and it was your job to protect him. Even though you were barely any bigger than he was. You'd built a small tolerance to the pain. Jared had not._

_"Seeley!" His voice was full of rage as he screamed your name. You didn't answer as you heard the glass plate shatter against the wall. No, he definitely was not going to let you get away with that. You were almost just happy that he threw the glass before you were in the room. Better you have to pick up the pieces off the floor than out of your skin. You knew that too well._

_You gulped as the light in your room turned on, followed by more of his heavy stomps against the hardwood floor. It was times like these that you missed your mother the most. She was better than anyone at calming him down. At least she was before she got sick._

_"Get your ass out of bed NOW, Seeley." You flinched as his arm snatched you out of your bed, and you felt his fingernails dig into you as you were dragged from your room into the kitchen. You wished immediately that you'd worn shoes, or at least socks, because you knew this was not going to go in your favor._

_"Haven't I told you to wash your dishes, Seeley?" He snarled at you, and for the first time you allowed yourself to look at him. It was then that your realized it was going to be worse than you'd braced yourself for. He had a bruise forming around his left eye, and the other eye was bloodshot red, probably from the massive intake of alcohol you'd smelled on his breath. How had he even driven home? It was obvious that he'd lost his previous fight, which meant there was no way in hell he was going to let you win this one._

_"Sorry dad. I fell asleep." You whispered, knowing that it was going to make him even angrier, but no angrier than he would have been if you hadn't responded at all._

_Your knees collapsed from the first blow to the back of your head, but he was still gripping onto your arm, so it was only a moment before you were back onto your feet, despite being disoriented at best. You could feel slivers of glass poking your knees, but you tried to block that out. It could have been worse. "Aren't you supposed to be gone somewhere?" His grip tightened on your arm, and you were more than aware that your hand was going numb from the lack of circulation flowing. You had to find a way to get loose soon._

_You didn't want to answer him this time, because you knew instinctively that the next blow would be worse than the first. You had to, though, because he never allowed you to ignore him. "You were supposed to drop me off at 6:30." You whimpered as the back of your head throbbed from the blow's impact and braced yourself for the second one. You never could guess where he was going to hit next._

_You were actually surprised when you felt his foot to the back of your knee, sending you hands first into a pile of the shattered glass. You were just thankful you caught yourself before your face hit the floor too. You winced as the glass cut into your hands, but still you said nothing._

_"Clean your mess." He left you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were expecting worse. You waited until you heard the shower turn on before you allowed yourself to move. You barely allowed yourself a moment to remove the shards from your palms before you grabbed the broom. You could deal with your hands later. You had to fix his kitchen first._

"Booth? Booth!" Her voice shook you from the memory, and you felt yourself rubbing your hands. You knew that you'd experienced much worse forms of torture as a sniper, and then as an agent, but somehow that memory always seemed the worst as you felt your fingertips brush against the palm of your hands. The scars were long gone now, but still you felt the gashes. You weren't sure if you were ever not going to be able to feel them. "I can do this by myself if this is too hard for you. You probably shouldn't be on the case, anyway." You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair. She was probably right. You weren't sure you could be objective in this case either, but you sure as hell weren't going to let him lay on hand on Bones. You weren't even going to let him think about it. If you knew anything about your father, it was that he believed women and children were supposed to be servants to men. You doubted that had changed much. Men like him usually never changed.

"No Bones, I'm fine. Just give me a minute, will ya?" You took a deep breath to gather your control before standing up. "C'mon Bones, let's go catch the bad guy." You could feel her questioning eye on you, but you resisted to comment on it. If you acted as if you were fine, you hoped she would let it go. You were supposed to be the people person, but Bones was getting better at reading people. You weren't sure whether you should be worried or proud about that. A part of you worried that soon she wouldn't need you at all, and another part worried that she knew what you were feeling more than you would like her to. The rest of you was just incredibly proud about how much you'd rubbed off on her. You decided to focus on the latter.

"If he tries to run away, can I shoot him?" Bones smiled at you as you stepped into the elevator, and for a small moment you returned the smile. You knew, of course, that she couldn't. You just had to ask him some questions. He wasn't going to get arrested. Not today, anyway. He'd never been one to admit fault. Especially when the fault was his own.

He couldn't hurt you again. Bones would make sure of that.

-- I'm not sure if I should continue this or not, please let me know if you are interested! thanks!


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